Wars Within
by Yuiitsu
Summary: In Feudal Japan, Lucy is a skilled assassin, using her body to seduce her targets. She never thought she'd ever be unable to kill someone, especially not infamous, lordless Samurai Natsu. Lucy's trained to kill men twice her size, but she's not equipped to deal with...feelings, especially not ones that lead to a whirlwind romantic night with her target. AU: NALU, GALE, JERZA
1. NALU

SO HEY GUYS! This'll include a few shippings, which are listed below.

-Obvi we've got Nalu, Samurai x Assassin (kya)

-Next is Gale/Gajevy, Thief x Emperor's Concubine

-Last you get Jerza, Lord x Serf

I don't really know why I chose to write this. There's just something about feudal Japan that I love so much. I decided I'd give it a whirl and throw in some of my favorite ships along the way…plus, the idea of a seductive assassin Lucy has been lingering in the back of my mind for like a year now. Anyway, this is my first(ish) attempt at 3rd person as opposed to my usual 1st, so leave me reviews telling me how I did as I'm sort of insecure about it.

Warning: there'll be lemons in this story, but not _really_ graphic ones. I'll try and limit my crazy imagination for younger audiences, but if the idea of sex turns you away from a fic, better turn back now.

I also apologize to anyone who is knowledgeable about feudal Japan, because it's pretty much inevitable that I'll get at least _something_ wrong. Please go easy on me if I write something to be historically inaccurate and accept the feels as my apology. :)

* * *

The cool rain fell in fat drops, soaking the warm earth and causing a suffocating, dense mist to permeate even the deepest forests. It made navigating the roads difficult, especially with a restless, exhausted horse. Osamu Hideki's journey had been a long and arduous one, but the profit he would receive from selling his product at the Dragon Festival that very evening would make it well worth it.

Osamu was smiling to himself. The opium smuggling business was profitable beyond measure and he had a particular taste for gold. He leaned back in his seat just as the carriage went over an enormous bump, sending him flying and crashing into the opposing wall.

"You useless pig," he bellowed, holding his newly injured shoulder.

"Apologies, Sir, but I believe we just collided with a person," replied the driver, his voice slightly muffled by the intricately decorated carriage walls.

"I don't give a shit," Osamu growled, "Get this fucking thing moving."

Osamu sat down again, awaiting the lurch of the cabin, but it didn't come. "What in the hell…" he began, but his driver spoke.

With a clear of his throat, he said, "Sir, you'd better see this."

Osamu rubbed the bridge of his nose and grumbled to himself as he kicked the door open, dropping out of the carriage into the muddy road. The rain almost immediately soaked him through. "What?!" Osamu practically screamed.

His driver didn't say anything but instead simply pointed. Osamu's eyes followed his driver's finger until they rested on a crumpled figure beside his carriage. Osamu quickly surmised that this was the person his driver had mentioned earlier and that this person had rolled into the ditch beside the road.

"I told you I don't give a shit about some peasant," Osamu said angrily, "I'm waiting for you to tell me why the fuck I'm standing in the rain and not halfway to the festival by now."

"Look closer, Sir," the driver said. Osamu growled again as he stepped through the mud, careful not to dirty his elegant clothing. He was about to turn around and scream into his servant's ear and give him a beating, maybe take a finger or two—no higher than that as he needed his hands to maneuver the horse—when he finally got close enough to discover the identity of the person in the ditch.

He was speechless. Lying in the ditch was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with shining blond hair and alluring brown eyes, hidden almost completely by her long eyelashes. It was rare to see a foreigner in Japan, not to mention the caliber of this woman's beauty. She lay in the grass, the rain pounding her body and soaking her dress all the way through to her pale skin, revealing her perfect figure to Osamu almost completely.

"I can't move my leg," she squeaked.

Osamu's mouth simply hung open until a few moments later when he found his voice, "What's your name, girl?"

"Lucy," she replied, followed by a whimper audible even above the roaring rain.

"Come then, Lucy," he said, extending his hand, "I'll take you away from here." Osamu's imagination was running wild with all the things he would do to this girl. He was normally very picky about his women, demanding that they were both beautiful and rich. This girl was the exception, though; she was so gorgeous that he didn't care at all if she didn't have a penny to her name. He would make her his woman.

"Th-thank you, your Lordship," she said. She took his hand and he picked her up, carrying her in his arms.

"I'm not Daimyo," he said.

"You're not a Lord? I'm sorry for my mistake," she said as he placed her gently in the carriage, "I simply assumed because of your carriage and your serf…and your magnificent garments."

He sat down next to her and ordered the carriage into motion, then rested his arm around Lucy, leering down at her. Lucy's intentional flattery went straight to Osamu's ego as he was a materialistic man at heart. "Well, even if I'm not a Lord, I am fabulously wealthy. I may as well bathe in gold. Besides, Daimyo is just a title and a long list of responsibilities."

"Of course, Sir," she said, strategically placing her slender fingers over his sausages. Sometimes it pained Lucy to come on to such hideous men, but it was all part of the job and paid well enough that it was worth it. Besides, if she closed her eyes she could imagine a beautiful young man in place of the fatties or the hairy ones, even the ones with faces only their mothers could love. "May I say how lucky I was to have been rescued by such a handsome man?" Lucy added for good measure, despite how her guise for getting into his carriage had been getting run over. Lucy didn't worry, though. Osamu Hideki was hers already, probably from the moment he saw her. The rest would be a breeze.

Osamu's entire face turned red. He clearly wasn't used to getting praised for his appearance…understandably. "Just as I was fortunate to…discover such a sexy little lady," he said, his voice raspy. Lucy fought back a grimace as he leaned forward and she was enveloped in what smelled like a cruel mixture of man-stink, tobacco, rot, and wet dog.

Osamu was breathing heavily now. Lucy had intentionally worn her pale white dress so as to better lure Osamu into her trap, but it seemed her see through clothing was working too well on this man. She mentally scolded herself; she should have seen this man's perversion and complete lack of etiquette and honor coming. He was a criminal, no better than a rich, greedy merchant.

Lucy looked away, trying to figure out what to do. She hadn't planned to carry out her contract until she arrived at the festival, where her second—and more interesting—target awaited her, but it seemed it couldn't be helped. "Lucy," Osamu whispered.

She turned around to look at him, summoning her best doe eyes. "Surely you wouldn't-" but she was cut off.

She fought down a gag as Osamu slammed his lips roughly against hers, his dirty facial hair scratching her skin. He tried to force his tongue into her mouth, but she slammed her jaw shut. That did it.

Lucy pulled a tiny pin from her shoe and, so quickly it was almost impossible to see, jabbed it into Osamu's neck. She shoved him off of her, but it wasn't confusion in Osamu's expression, it was agony. Lucy sighed, moving to sit on the other side of the carriage so as to avoid the wet dog smell. "Disgusting swine," she mumbled, throwing the pin out the window.

She watched calmly as Osamu seized and convulsed, foam leaking from the corner of his mouth. She was glad she'd brought a fast acting poison for this assassination. She shivered and spat out the window to get the taste of Osamu out of her mouth, and when she looked back inside Osamu had stilled. She was used to corpses, so being near one wasn't an issue, but that didn't mean she wanted to spend the rest of the trip with one, especially such a smelly one. It was simply unsanitary.

Still, she would have to tough it out then slip away before the driver noticed his master's death. Lucy sighed, watching the damp world go by. Might as well get a nap in.

* * *

The sounds, sights, and smells of the festival filled Natsu with a gentle joy. He sat at one of the wooden tables, gazing out over the parade of people and the colorful crowd. Shouts of delight and excitement rang in his ears from all around him. The brilliant dragon, made up of colorful paper and fantastic ornamental decorations—and, of course, quite a few dedicated men within—traipsed down the center of the busy streets. Natsu's eyes widened in surprise as a column of flame erupted from the dragon's mouth. He shook his head, taking a swig of his sake…that _had_ to be a fire hazard.

But Natsu didn't really care. As long as everyone had fun celebrating together, nothing really mattered. He leaned back in his seat, his stomach full from the feast he'd bought earlier with money from his last job. He stood up, leaving money on the table to pay for his drink, and stepped onto the street. Natsu smiled at the comforting clinking of his swords at his side.

Just as he was about to go on his way, a huge, gruff-looking man slammed into him with enough force to knock him to the ground. Natsu grimaced as the man leaned over him and spat directly into his face. "Ronin," he hissed.

Natsu fought his fury to the best of his ability. "Bastard," he growled quiet enough that the man wouldn't hear. He didn't need to start a messy fight in the middle of the festival. The huge man stalked off when he was satisfied that Natsu had been humiliated enough. A few people around sent pitying looks his way, but Natsu ignored them all. He didn't need pity. He was his own person, and if that meant living as a lordless, clanless Samurai…so be it.

Natsu started to get up when he was met with a new pain, someone kicking his shin it seemed. Before he realized what he was doing, his reflexes forced his arms to shoot out and catch what was falling towards him at full speed. "Watch it," he shouted.

His mind took a moment to catch up to reality. The first thing he saw was a flower…no, it was a hairpin with flowers on it. They were beautiful and a deep red. To anyone else they might just look like pretty flowers, but to Natsu the red reminded him of blood. His life had been full of it, so it was only natural.

The next thing he saw was gold. Long locks of soft, flowing gold hair twisted around his fingertips, curling delicately around his wrist and his calloused palm and draping smoothly over his forearm.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice rushed. It was sweet, ringing like a bell. "I saw what happened and I was coming over to help you up, but I tripped over your leg." He looked down at her and met her eyes. "I'm so clums…" but her gentle voice trailed off as she came to meet Natsu's eyes, her mouth slightly open as if her words were hanging on her lips.

And what amazing lips they were, a light pink to match her pale skin, slightly damp as if she'd just run her tongue along them. The beauty of her face instantly struck him, pinning him in place. Her eyes were a delicious brown, reminding him of that western delicacy he'd once had the pleasure of enjoying…chocolate, was it? Her features were delicate, her large eyes, her little teardrop nose, and her soft looking lips all seemed to glow when surrounded by her golden hair.

They lay there together, her on top of him, simply taking each other in for what seemed like minutes to both of them, surrounded by noise but unable to hear it, frozen in time despite the heat that simmered in the air between them. Lucy had identified Natsu by his blades, the fire-spitters as they were called in the hushed whispers of the inn where she always went to gather information.

She knew the man with those iconic double blades was her target, Natsu Dragneel, the famed Ronin and hired blade, but she hadn't expected this…moment. She lay on top of him, staring into his deep green eyes. They told her all about him, that his past was tainted by suffering and pain, but there was a light there that revealed that he still somehow managed to love life, to enjoy it to its fullest.

Lucy had never assassinated anyone who looked like _this_. His handsome face stole the words from her lips, literally leaving her speechless. She'd seen this happen to her previous targets, but she had never experienced it before. It frustrated her, but somehow it also delighted her.

Lucy slid her hand along Natsu's chest as she began to return to herself. She steeled herself, unwilling to let his sexiness distract her. She was a trained assassin and she needed to keep it together. Despite how she liked the fire in his eyes, his strong jawline and lips that were curving into a subtle smirk, how tight his arms were around her waist, his strong muscles that tensed and shifted beneath her body…she _refused_ to be drawn in. That absurd yet amusing rosy pink hair wasn't going to steal her eyes.

"Clumsy," she finished, blinking so as to clear up the haze.

"That's kind of you…coming to my aid, I mean," he said. His voice was gentler than she expected. He was a trained killer just like she was, and she'd anticipated the usual gruff, smoker's voice. But no…Natsu had been anything but _expected_ so far, so why should his sexy voice be any different?

Lucy smiled at him, batting her eyelashes, "I think it's good to help those in need…not that you couldn't have handled that on your own." She slowly slid off of him, letting her hand barely slide along his thigh as she leaned back. She created distance between them, but left enough contact to keep his attention.

The smirk widened into a full smile, "I think so, too. Anyway, are you hurt? You fell pretty fast." He stood up as he spoke, looking down at her. He reached down to help her up, anticipating that the yukata she was wearing, the deep red that matched her hair piece, would restrict her movement. She took it with a thankful smile and he helped her to her feet.

"I'm alright. You caught me just in time. Impressive reflexes," she said as they began to walk together, Lucy's wooden shoes clacking as they went.

"Yeah, well…practice makes perfect as they say," Natsu said, crossing his arms over his chest and peeking at Lucy again. She really was gorgeous, especially that beautiful hair. He watched as it drifted behind her like a river of shining gold. Lucy laughed softly. "Hm?" Natsu questioned.

"You're staring at me," she said, looking up at him from behind her long lashes.

Natsu cleared his throat, "I've just never seen hair like yours before. You're a foreigner, then?"

She nodded, "I am, but I'm not sure you have a right to say that, considering how your hair is an even stranger color." Lucy spoke as if it was absurd, but she secretly thought of it as charming, a peculiarity of sorts that made him more enthralling to her.

He nodded sheepishly, "They say it's because I'm cursed, you know."

"Cursed?" she asked. He was remarkable inside and out.

Natsu hadn't meant to mention it. People normally feared him when they found out he was the Dragon of the West, the tamer of the fiery blades. He didn't want to scare this girl away. Lucy noticed his hesitation, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Maybe this was the source of his pain?

Natsu nodded gratefully. "My name's Natsu," he said.

She smiled, happy to hear him say it despite already knowing his identity, "I'm Lucy."

"Lucy," he repeated, "Beautiful just like you."

Lucy laughed, "You're a terrible flirt…like a child."

Natsu frowned, "I know."

"It's ok. I find it endearing. Beside, you probably never need to worry about it with that face of yours," she said. He stopped walking immediately, taken aback by her words. He'd never really considered himself all that handsome. Sure, he'd had women. They sometimes appeared in his life, though he never really took interest in them. He indulged in sexual pleasures just like any other man, and he'd never found it difficult to find someone. Was that because of his face?

"What? You didn't know, Natsu?" Lucy asked in a cheerful tone, looking back at him. It was then that Lucy woke up. She was walking with Natsu, chatting with him like she wasn't here to murder him. She bit her lip, looking around for a dark place. She had to get him away from the loud crowd, find a place to administer the poison without anyone seeing.

"No," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The sleeve of his kimono slid past his forearm and down to bunch at his shoulder, giving Lucy a full view of his bicep. She tried to ignore the stirring she had inside of her, something close to desire caused by the brief glance of his skin, but it was difficult. She'd never found much of anything difficult, so this was a change for her…an annoying one.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand. She pulled him alongside her, "I want to show you something."

Natsu didn't say anything, just walked quickly behind her as she maneuvered through the tight crowd. They walked past various food stands, their alluring smells all calling out to Lucy as they walked. She ignored the tug in her stomach and walked faster. If she dealt with Natsu in a timely manner she could go get food after.

Natsu let his eyelids fall a bit, wondering if it was some sort of miracle that he'd met Lucy. He'd endured so much in his life time, and he figured that maybe Lucy was the universe's way of paying him back. If so, karma had outdone herself again, because Lucy was more than Natsu could ever ask for. Unconsciously, Natsu tightened his grip around Lucy's hand.

Lucy noticed instantly even if Natsu didn't and fought her alarming yet overwhelming urge to squeeze his hand back. She bit her lip again, pulling Natsu around the corner. Finally, they'd arrived, and Lucy let out a tiny sigh of relief.

"Wow," Natsu breathed, stepping forward to stand beside Lucy. He didn't move to take his hand from Lucy's, instead positioning his body so that their shoulders touched.

"Amazing, right?" Lucy said, looking up at Natsu. He looked completely different under the red light of the lanterns. The pathway in front of them was lined with thousands of lanterns, the pride of the Dragon Festival. Little gold dragons struck various poses on the paper lanterns. Natsu's eyes shone like a child's and he grinned widely. Lucy caught a glimpse of his sharp canines and a tiny lump formed in her throat.

"Come on," he said, dragging her behind him this time. She followed obediently, knowing all the while that their little meeting was about to come to an end. There was no one else walking the path of the dragons—they were all watching the parade—and even if there had been it wasn't likely that they'd be able to see the two in the dim, red light of the pathway.

Lucy looked up at Natsu, watching his excited eyes snap from lantern to lantern. The entirety of him was bathed in the gentle red light of the lanterns, flickering in candlelight. It was harder to see the details of his face in the lantern light, but despite the dark she could still tell he was handsome. The heat flooding into her arm from where they held hands was a reminder of the strange feeling she'd had ever since she'd intentionally fallen on top of Natsu. She didn't want to admit it, but she was conflicted.

Without warning, Natsu came to a steady stop. Lucy froze alongside him, wondering what caused this. Natsu looked down at her, stepping closer to her. She was overwhelmed by his smell. In place of the stink and the rot that Osamu had filled her with just that morning was the subtle smell of spices and smoke. Natsu met her eyes and she noticed a sadness there, "Lucy, I'm about to tell you something that I haven't told anyone before. I don't know why, but I feel like I can trust you." Those words made a knot form in Lucy's chest, squeezing her heart painfully. She didn't show her discomfort on her face, though, and didn't question what made her feel that way.

"I hate the color red," Natsu said.

Lucy blinked, waiting for more…something that actually made sense, but it didn't come, "What?"

"It reminds me of blood," he said, taking her other hand. She forced her face to remain neutral. "It's my dark side and I despise it," he said quietly.

The full meaning of his words slammed into Lucy. Natsu hated how he was a Ronin, that he killed people for money. Lucy had never really thought about it, not like that. It was a job, and most of them deserved it anyway. But…meeting Natsu like this began to change her mind. He was sometimes childlike, but also possessed a mysterious, troubled past that occasionally aged him immensely, not to mention the simmering sexiness that made Lucy's pulse quicken with one look, a woman who was so used to the opposite sex that she could manipulate men at a moment's notice.

Lucy, for a brief moment, didn't want to kill Natsu.

"Don't be scared," Natsu said, a hint of fear in his voice. His hands tightened almost painfully around Lucy's, and she realized this was his call for his help, that he'd unlocked the cage within his heart that he kept his self-hatred hidden away in. She couldn't reject him, not any longer, not when he was clinging to her like this, like she was some sort of savior. She'd always been the villain, the predator, been Poison's Mistress…but savior somehow felt good to her.

"I'm not," she whispered into his ear so that she could close what was left of the distance between them. Natsu's body reacted immediately, a shiver running up his spine at her proximity and forcing his lips to part slightly. Relief flooded through him like a river; she'd accepted him for who he was, and despite how much he despised it…she didn't.

He let his face fall into her shoulder, "I've just met you, yet I've already decided you're too perfect to be real."

She laughed a little, causing his head to bounce with her shoulder, "No one is perfect, Natsu."

He lifted his head, their faces only inches apart now. Slowly, without a word, his hands slid along the silk fabric of her kimono, finding their way up her arms and then around her waste, pulling her against him. "Maybe," he mumbled, but he hadn't given a moment's thought to his words. He was too focused on the feeling of her against him, the smell of lavender as he inhaled deeply, and how Lucy's eyes narrowed to sexy slits, calling to him, daring him.

"Maybe," she muttered back, tilting her head up to look at him. She didn't care about her contract any longer. She could indulge herself; this simply felt too heavenly to end it. At the moment, Natsu's body seemed too perfect to poison, like it would be ruining a work of art.

"I just met you, I shouldn't-" Natsu said, beginning to pull away from her. His sudden change of pace left Lucy frustrated. She grabbed his arm with one hand and placed her fingers over his lips, touching them softly.

"No one is perfect, Natsu," she said, pulling him back to her. She was used to men who forced themselves on her, but the one time when—as she was beginning to realize— she actually _wanted_ him, her target was too honorable to take her. It caused a surge of delight and anger to well up inside of her. Her desire, though, controlled her the most. "And I'm not innocent," she said. When she said those words, she meant it as a confession that she knew of the ways of men, but it almost sounded as if she were trying to tell him her secrets, that she was actually a murderess, had blood on her hands just as he did.

If Natsu noticed, he was too caught up in the moment to unravel the second meaning behind Lucy's declaration. Lucy let her kimono slide open a bit and looked up at him, this time sure that he wouldn't resist her. "Natsu," she said, his name escaping her lips as if it were an order, a demand to close the distance that was so agonizing to him. He gave in instantly, pushing her against the wall behind them and wrapping his arms tightly around her.

Her lips were even softer than they looked, and as he slid his tongue along them he realized that they tasted sweet, like a little bit of that honey of a voice she possessed had caught there and lingered. Her body seemed so delicate beneath his rough, war-torn hands, and he was hesitant to fully give in to the burning want inside of him. He slid his hands along the length of her as if he were measuring her, taking her in and memorizing her.

Lucy slipped her hand inside of his kimono, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath. He was strong from years of fighting, training and working, and knowing that somehow made him more appealing to her. He was strong because he fought. Natsu was a mystery to her, a hired blade who hated killing…it made her smile against his lips.

She hadn't expected it, but the moment he'd kissed her she'd been drawn in. Some tiny part of her was panicking as Natsu kissed her, slid his hand along her side and cupped her breast, because she doubted more with every passing second that she would be able to stop it. This was unprofessional and stupid. She had to kill this man. What was she even doing?

But Natsu's kisses moved to her neck, to the soft spot beneath her jawline. The moment his lips touched it, her weakness, her breathing heightened and her heart went crazy. She gasped, clinging to his kimono to keep herself grounded. Her legs went a little weak.

Natsu noticed immediately how much pleasure that spot gave her and he smirked, tightening his grasp around Lucy's waist in case her legs gave out and running his tongue along her neck, landing on that same sweet spot and sucking lightly. Lucy let out a long, sexy moan, and something lurched in Natsu. Lucy weaved her slightly shaking fingers into his pink hair and tilted Natsu head up, wanting to taste him again.

It was so different from what she was used to. His kiss set the world on fire, but even as it blazed around them the two couldn't look away from each other.

And Lucy craved more, needed more. She needed the memory, the night with him, to give in to the feelings that were barraging her.

"Natsu," she murmured as he slid his leg between hers. He pulled away and looked at her, breathing hard and flushed. Lucy told him what she wanted with her eyes, her throat too closed up with lust to get the words out.

But Natsu didn't need words. He nodded and then took her hand, practically running through the pathway of lanterns, steps ringing with urgency.

* * *

Natsu still seemed hesitant. Lucy noticed immediately how he treated her, like she would break without a moment's notice. He leaned over her, carefully removing her flower hair ornament. "Careful," Lucy said quietly.

He froze for a moment, looking down at her, and then nodded. Lucy didn't really care about it. It was something worthless that she'd bought at one of the shops along with her yukata—practically out of desperation as she had still been wearing her white dress—but hidden inside was the needle destined for Natsu, what would end his life if he barely scratched his finger against it.

Lucy sat next to him, watching his quick, deliberate movements. Natsu knew what he was doing, the fire in his eyes lighting up as he slowly slid her silk kimono off of her shoulders, kissing each one as he slid it down further. He looked up at her as he kissed each of her breasts. She shivered and touched the side of his face as he rose to meet her, touching his lips gently to hers. She was like a flower to him, a brilliant golden flower, glowing on the side of the road, surrounded by dull weeds. He would pick it, but he would treat it with care, value it because it was different, special, rare.

But Lucy wasn't a flower, she was the serpent beneath it, poison in her veins and desire in her heart. She rose up and quickly, expertly, exposed his chest beneath his kimono, slipping it away and immediately forgetting about it. She touched each of the scars she'd uncovered, badges of honor that showed he was a fighter. It spurred her on, and she pushed him down, positioning herself above him.

Her long hair fell over his chest, caressing his muscles. To Natsu it looked almost white in the moonlight that fell around them. He reached up and took a handful of it, clenching it tightly and pulling her down to him. If she wanted it like this, he would give it to her. He'd always treated women gently, but Lucy seemed stronger, like she could handle all of him.

He held her tightly and rolled her over so he was on top again, then smirked down at her. A resistance, frustration, sparked in Lucy's eyes, but Natsu snuffed it out immediately when he kissed her soft spot. She shivered beneath him and squeezed her legs together. "You vulnerable there, Lucy," he whispered into her ear.

She turned her head and gently bit his ear. He smiled and looked down at her, taking in the full sexy, beauty of her exposed body. Her skin was so pale, her eyes dark and shining, her hand sliding across her stomach towards the throbbing between her legs. Natsu shook his head and grabbed her hand, pulling it up to rest on his neck. She held on tight and looked him in the eyes, inviting him.

It was clear in that moment to Lucy, as she begged for him with her eyes, that he was the one who had the power over her. In her right mind she would've hated that realization, but she didn't despise it so much with passion blinding her. Her senses were attuned to Natsu, following his lead and anticipating him, every inch of him.

She pulled him down against her. "Come on," she moaned quietly against his neck. Natsu gave in to his animal instinct.

Lucy was his, and he wanted her to know it. She cried out as he finally gave her what she wanted, sensation erupting within both of them. Natsu muscles rippled, shivered, worked together to let him greedily take more and more of Lucy, to fill her up and cause her to cling tighter and tighter to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Their sweat mixed together just as their moans and gasps mingled in the air around them.

They rose up against each other, rough and hungry. Their tongues, their hands, their bodies fighting against each other, the throws of passion becoming almost like a battle between them. The intense fire and war raging around them, inside them, changed their worlds, their feelings.

When their war finally ended, Lucy threw her head back, every one of their muscles tensing together in one act of finality. Natsu leaned down heavily against Lucy, his face hidden in her hair. She ran her fingers through his pink locks, loving the soft feeling it brought her. She was calm, her mind clearer than it had been in a long time.

She closed her eyes, letting him pull her close to him and tuck his face away in her chest. His arms wrapped tightly around her like he wasn't ready to let go of her yet, and she watched him close his eyes, still breathing heavily. Her own chest heaved steadily, and Natsu gently bit her there. She smiled and shut her eyes as she enjoyed the feeling of those canines she'd seen earlier.

And so they lay together in silence, because words would just get in the way.

* * *

Hopefully not _too_ graphic for the younguns, but I did warn you. Anyway, leave me a review if you want to see it continued, because I'm still uncertain. Thanks, guys. Love you all.


	2. GALE

**Thanks, you guys, for the positive feedback. Since you left reviews for the first chapter, I wrote another one for everyone…plus I sort of like writing for this story over the ones on my other accounts. Anyway, please keep reviewing, loves, because they'll keep the chapters coming your way.**

 **This chapter will be Gale/Gajevy, the thief and the concubine. Enjoy, everybody, and thanks to those who are patiently waiting for Jerza or more Nalu. I hope you like Gale's story. :)**

* * *

Gajeel was in his element, swimming through the shadows. He pulled his hood farther over his face as he ran, anticipation pulsing through him. It was a clear night, but the chilled air that whispered in his ears as he sprinted over the rooftops hinted at an impending storm.

It almost seemed that Gajeel could feel the energy of the lightning crackling in the atmosphere despite the lack of rain and thunder. Gajeel had never been wrong about storms before.

But maybe he was this time. Maybe the storm he thought he smelled was actually within him. Maybe the swirling thunderheads were actually just his own stormy emotions. It was something alike to excitement within him, slamming against the walls of his heart and urging his feet to go faster.

It was a familiar feeling now. He spent his life on the edge, living wherever he wanted, taking whomever he wanted, stealing whatever he wanted. The adrenaline was what validated his existence. That's how it all started. Gajeel was a free spirit, strong, wild, independent…but he was tied down now.

As Gajeel ran, he thought back to that night, when he first saw her. Panther, Gajeel's occasional accomplice, had scoffed and told Gajeel that he should tone down his thieving. Panther had always worried that Gajeel was too ambitious, that he would get caught. Gajeel, of course, had to prove him wrong. Gajeel could break in anywhere, take anything.

So Gajeel chose the hardest place to break into. The palace. It had been difficult, of course, but it wasn't anything Gajeel couldn't handle. He was a thief, he belonged in the shadows and used them to get past wall after wall of guards.

It didn't matter what he was going to steal, as long as he brought it back to Panther as proof that he was the best. Gajeel silently slid down the red tiled palace roof and grabbed the edge, holding on tight and swinging himself down. He landed on the wood with a slight tap and crept up to the nearest room. There was no one inside, so he stepped in, making sure to stay low and alert.

The room was dark, quiet. It seemed to be some sort of storage room, with shelves lining the walls and chest pushed up against them, a couple huge barrels in the corner. He walked over to one of the shelves and his eyes scanned it quickly. It was mostly glass bottles and boxes, a couple of books here and there. One thing stood out to him, and he immediately decided to use it as proof. It was a small figurine of a fox, made of white marble.

Gajeel stashed it away in his pocket and turned to leave. Just as he did so, he heard the heavy footsteps of guards. He ducked down and listened closely as the footsteps got closer, hiding his body behind one of the huge barrels.

"A shame, really." The voice was deep, but showed incredible emotion. Just from those three words, Gajeel could tell the guard truly did feel sorry.

"It's not completely bad, though," said another voice. This one was lighter, energetic and rushed like it belonged to an impressionable kid, "I mean, she still gets to live a comfortable life."

Gajeel frowned. She? His interest was peaked.

The first man was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke his voice seemed even sadder, "She's only here as a trophy, Michio, and the worst past is that she knows it. She's too smart for her own good."

"But she's definitely beautiful enough to be a concubine," Michio said. Gajeel could hear the wonder in his voice.

Gajeel shook his head as he heard the guards walk past. The emperor was a vain man, but he never knew it was this bad. He took many beautiful women into his harem, but I guess he had so many that he didn't even use them all. Being an unused concubine…Gajeel grimaced as he silently walked towards the doorway. Or maybe she was used, but less than the others…still, it would bring shame to her family.

Gajeel turned around the corner, but immediately backed back into the room. He'd almost walked directly into someone, though it seemed that she hadn't noticed. Her face was buried in a book as she walked.

Gajeel crossed his arms, looking at her. There was a spark of curiosity in him strong enough to keep him in such a dangerous situation. It surprised him how delicately beautiful she looked, almost ethereal. She had pale, soft-looking skin and was slender. Her face was small and perfectly round, silhouetted by her short, shining bluish hair. She paused a few feet from Gajeel, unknowing, and lowered her book. She slowly shut it and her dark, shining eyes narrowed as if she were deep in thought. She clutched the book to her chest as if it were the most valuable thing in the world and _smiled_.

That confused Gajeel. She was smiling because she was reading a book? Was it really that fascinating? What was even in it? And most importantly, did she always smile like that…like a little fragile spirit, like she had to be protected from even a little breeze, because it could blow her beauty away from him?

Gajeel was suddenly aware that he was unconsciously stepping out of the shadows. He quickly hid himself away again, trying to stop the urge to get closer to her and find out if she was even real. She glowed in the moonlight, her shining silvery clothes making her look even more like a lovely spirit in Gajeel's eyes. He blinked furiously, trying to get the strange haze to go away.

But he couldn't. She stood there in the moonlight smiling with a book in her hands, completely still and lost in thought. Gajeel watched her, his breath suspended and his knuckles white from where he clutched a shelf. He watched intently as she set the book down beside her and looked up. But when she looked away from her book, there was an unbearable sadness in her eyes. She took a lock of her hair and twisted it around her thin finger.

But why was she sad? Gajeel leaned forward, as if such a simple movement could reveal all her secrets to him.

Then it occurred to him. She couldn't just be human, could she? Not when she was this beautiful, she couldn't. Tsuki-Yomi himself, the moon god, had probably touched her, given her a bit of himself so she could walk among the people with the lovely light of the moon around her. There was no other explanation, because she looked like she fit in with the moonlight so perfectly. Gajeel felt worlds away from her suddenly. He was a man of the shadows and she was a creature of the light.

Gajeel suddenly realized Tsuki-Yomi was a cruel god, because he could only look at her, never get closer, never unravel her secrets or touch that moonlit skin. Cruel indeed.

She sighed and picked up her book. She stepped away and left the world in darkness again. Gajeel slipped away. Her world was different from his. He belonged in the shadows.

But even after he left, that lovely spirit of the moon haunted him, gracing his thoughts and tricking him into seeing her everywhere. Every moment he was away from her, he craved to see her again. He wanted to experience that light again, to see her delicate features and gentle movements.

And so he snuck into the palace again and again just to see her, to get closer to the light that always made him feel so fulfilled. With time, he'd amassed a collection of memories, moments with her that he treasured, hoarded like a dragon and his gold.

The first time he heard her laugh was one of his favorites. It was such a loud, clear sound, shockingly so for someone so small. She'd seemed genuinely happy then, a difference from her usual self. She often cried, sometimes used her enchanting voice to sing her feelings away through sad song. Gajeel would always feel close to her in those moments, when she was her saddest. Maybe it was because he felt the same; there was an unending sadness hiding behind his carefree life, a hole that he could never seem to fill with stolen goods or cheap women.

But she wasn't always sad. She would smile around books, find small delights in the world around her, like the birds chorusing outside her window or the pale lilies that floated calmly on the still waters of the pond in the palace gardens.

With every visit he began to need her light more and more. And so Gajeel stood above her room now, his heart pumping and his nerves tingling. He sat down, listening intently. He looked out over the palace. It was twilight now, the time between day and night when the trees still cast long shadows across the land, but with each passing moment those shadows dimmed.

A humming came from the room below Gajeel, and he leaned back against the roof, letting his muscles relax. It was the tune to a lullaby, one that women often sang to their children. It was her voice; Gajeel could clearly tell the difference now.

But did she have a child? That was impossible, right? Gajeel sat up and leaned over the edge of the roof. His dark hair fell down around his face and he blew it out of the way. She began to sing the words.

 _Sleep, sleep - you're a good little boy, sleep now._ _  
_ _Little boy, where's your nursemaid gone? Across that mountain, back to her home._

Gajeel leaned as far forward as he could until he could see into her room. Just as he thought, there was no child there. She was singing to herself in front of her mirror, a pile of paper in front of her and a brush in her hand, the tip black with ink.

But if she didn't have a child, why was she singing a children's song? Gajeel was too immersed in his thoughts, and his hand slipped. Gajeel tumbled into the light.

He kept his eyes shut tightly, biting down the pain in his shoulder. Her humming had stopped and for some reason that brought a quiet sadness down on him.

"Who are you?" Her voice was rushed, a little timid. Gajeel slowly opened his eyes and turned his head. She'd stood up and was staring at him. A rush of feelings surged within him. This was the first time she'd actually looked at _him_. Though her face was marred with worry and a spark of fear shone in her eyes, she seemed so much more beautiful when he was monopolizing her attention.

Gajeel sat up and looked at her, holding his painful shoulder. He slowly stood and she watched him closely. Levy had never seen this man in the palace before, and her father had told her that many people would want her dead, that she was a disgrace and would be hated for it. Perhaps this man was one of those people, maybe he was here to kill her.

She couldn't quite make out his face from where she stood, but she could see that he was tall, well built, and poorly groomed. He stepped forward and she panicked, holding her hand up as if it would defend her from him, "Don't come closer. I'll scream."

He froze instantly, but he'd come close enough that the light from her candle revealed him to her. He was wearing dark clothes that exposed his chest to her and she felt her face heat up. She was a virgin, despite being a concubine, and was easily embarrassed by such things.

Her gaze wandered the length of him. His arms were just as muscled as his chest was. Sharp shadows stood out on his skin, cast from the lines of his chest. His hair was long, pitch black, messy like he hadn't washed it in a long time. His features were sharp, his defined jawline dusted with stubble. Metal hung from his face in a few places, shining and shimmering in the candlelight.

What surprised her most, though, were his eyes. They seemed to glow red in the dark. They weren't hostile, though; somehow, she could tell that he wasn't there to hurt her. If she hadn't seen that spark of gentleness in his eyes, she might have thought him an oni, a demon with glowing eyes come to steal her away. On second thought, being stolen away from the palace didn't seem so bad.

"I'm…I won't hurt you," he said, his voice coming out husky, with awkward pauses like he didn't know what he was doing.

She stared at him for a moment and slowly sat down. He seemed to relax a little. "Who are you?" she repeated, calmer this time.

"Redfox," he said, standing rigidly, "Gajeel."

"McGarden," she said quietly, "Levy." She blinked. Unexpected. He looked almost nervous standing in her room, like he didn't know what he was doing or why he was here. She decided to ask him just that. "I don't mean to be rude, but this is my sleeping quarters," she said quietly, watching him closely, "What might a man like you need here?"

 _You_ , Gajeel thought, but stifled the confession before it tumbled from his lips just as he'd fallen from the roof. He cleared his throat instead, making absolutely sure he wouldn't accidently scare her even more by stepping back a bit.

"Don't run from me," she said quickly, leaning forward and staring at him. He froze, coming back into the light. "Answer my question." She was a brave little girl, wasn't she? But of course she was. She'd captured him, hadn't she?

"Wrong room?" he said, but it didn't sound believable even to his own ears. He closed his eyes, regretting that.

She was silent and then stood again, approaching him. She really was small. He was at least two heads taller than her. The corner of his lip lifted at that thought. Levy noticed it immediately and stared for a moment before returning to his oni eyes.

"You're a thief, aren't you?" she said.

Gajeel's breath caught. She was sharp. He stared down at her in surprise and then amusement welled up inside him. He laughed and Levy's eyes narrowed. She liked his laugh, despite how absurd it was.

"How in the hell did you figure that out?" he asked, delight still in his eyes.

"You look like one, Gajeel. Like an unwashed, sketchy criminal," she replied. He frowned.

"I wash," he grumbled, trying to distract himself from the fact that she'd just said his name and annoyingly girly butterflies were rampaging in his stomach. He put his hand over it, trying to clip their wings with his mind. It didn't work.

She smiled, "I'm sure you do, you just don't look like it. Cut off that mop on top of your head and you'd look better…though I'm fairly certain you'll never get rid of that shifty feeling about you."

Gajeel relaxed. She wasn't scared of him. They stood there in silence for a second. The moment sobered, and Levy spoke again, "But you're not here to steal anything, are you, Gajeel?" She stepped closer to him. She wouldn't hurt him. That was their mutual understanding, like they'd known each other for a long time and had no reason to doubt the other's intentions.

Gajeel was struck again by how spectacular she was as she approached him. With each step she took, Gajeel fell further, his eyelids sliding down as he looked down at her. She glowed in his eyes, a radiance around her even in the dim candlelight. Gajeel couldn't help it; he told her the truth.

"I come here because I have to…there's someone who's more important than anything," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. His words rang in the silence around them. Gajeel had never cared for much, not even the things he'd stolen. It was in that moment, with Levy's eyes on him, that he realized that the hole that had haunted him his whole life couldn't be filled with objects or money…there was only one thing that could make Gajeel whole.

A tiny smile graced Levy's face. The moment she'd looked into Gajeel's eyes, she could tell he wasn't evil, and yet he was a criminal, a thief who surrounded himself in darkness. She'd spent her life in the spotlight, people watching her, judging her. Suddenly, to Levy, Gajeel's life seemed so appealing. She wanted to walk in the shadows, hide from the stares of others with him.

She looked up at him, craning her neck so she could look into his eyes. They were so dark, his gaze rough and intimidating from years of tough living. Behind the fierceness, his scary appearance…was a softer man. Despite his fractured self, it was clear he had found something, something to live for and fight for.

Levy couldn't help but envy him.

"Someone who's more important than anything?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and hugging herself. Envy's green fingers warped her heart painfully. Whoever this person was, they could walk with Gajeel like she'd found herself aching to do. The emperor could care less about her, and she wanted an escape, a freedom from the blinding world she wasted away in. Despite how she hated to admit it, sometimes books weren't enough.

"This person is in the palace?" Levy asked, looking up at him again. Gajeel had been staring at her, unable to really stop himself.

"She's here," he said, "So I come here to see her."

Levy's eyes fell. So it _was_ a woman. "She must be very beautiful to have captured a man like you," Levy said, turning and taking a couple steps. He was a criminal, but he was still ruggedly, dangerously handsome and mysterious. Levy loved mysteries, because she could learn from them…and Gajeel was the biggest mystery she'd even encountered.

Gajeel smirked, " _Very_."

Levy frowned. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know, but she asked despite her doubts, "Who is she?"

"My moon spirit," Gajeel said, coming to stand directly behind her. Levy froze and turned to look at him, but as she turned she almost completely closed the space between them. She didn't dare breath because, if she had, their chests would have touched. Levy stared, admiring his muscles for a moment.

She licked her dry lips. "Your…" she paused, trying to ignore her pulse, "Moon spirit?"

"She's special, full of light. More beautiful than anyone I've ever seen. Better than us normal people," Gajeel said, lowering his face so that he could see hers. She looked so perfect up close. Her lashes were so long that they nearly hid her midnight eyes from him. Her hair fell down gracefully around her shoulders, which were exposed by her silvery dress. Gajeel wanted her, all of her…but even more so, he didn't want to scare her. With great concentration, he was able to pin his hands to his sides.

"I'm sure she is," Levy said, the words sticking uncomfortably in her throat briefly before she managed to force them out, "She has you, right?"

Gajeel laughed again, quieter this time. A lock of his hair fell down and gently touched Levy's arm. She shivered. "I'd never met her until today, _Shortie_."

Levy's eyes lit up, that one sentence causing a tornado of excitement and anger within her. Levy was brilliant. She'd always thought of it as a curse, but in that moment she was grateful for it. It was her intelligence that allowed her to instantly know the meaning behind Gajeel's words. She pressed her palm against his chest and stood on her tiptoes, "I'm not short, you're just Daidarabochi, stomping your giant feet and leaving lakes in your path like a—"

Gajeel felt light. His will slipped through his fingers. Her small hand was warm against his skin, her little, round, angry face was so close to his now. He chuckled and wrapped her up in his arms, picking her up so he could look directly into her eyes. She squeaked, and her angry ranting ended immediately.

She didn't say anything, just looked at him, her feet dangling above the ground. Levy looked into his eyes and couldn't hide her smile. She knew it was strange…she'd just met him and everything about this encounter seemed peculiar, yet she loved it. She wanted to stay in his arms, to feel his heart beat pounding against hers, to hide away from the world with him.

"Screw Tsuki-Yomi," Gajeel growled. Levy's smile widened. Maybe Gajeel was a criminal, but he didn't seem like a stranger to her. "You're _my_ moon spirit now," he said, holding her close to him. He wanted to kiss Levy more than anything, but something held him back. He was unsure; could he take her for himself without pushing her away from him? If he gave in to his feelings for her, would she disappear in front of his eyes?

Levy could see his doubts, the subtle fear hidden behind his fierce oni eyes. She had to extinguish that fear, do away with it so that he knew what she felt. She slowly put a hand on either side of his face and looked him in the eyes. She smiled at the slight roughness of his jaw, at the little prickles of his stubble. "Then you're my gentle oni," she whispered. She could understand his true nature by just looking at him, though Gajeel himself couldn't.

She spoke the truth, too. She was going to take Gajeel for herself. He would be her escape, he would be the one to whisk her away from her life. He would be her shadow, her counterpart…hers and hers alone. She'd never had someone love her. The emperor had so many women that he didn't even glance at her, a flat-chested woman originally of a lower class. He'd picked her up long ago, but it seemed he'd forgotten about her…Levy had always wondered what he'd even seen in her.

Gajeel, though, was different. He looked at her with those dark red eyes and it was clear to her that he admired her, wanted to have her. She was a person, too, and she was tired of being alone. She wanted to hear him say it, that he loved her. She'd always wanted to hear those words, so much that it didn't truly matter who they came from. But Levy knew he wouldn't say them…he was too tough to admit it to her.

But his eyes were enough for her, at least for now. They were enough proof. So Levy made sure he wouldn't look away from her. She tilted his face up with her hand and lowered her lips to his.

Gajeel was frozen. Levy had always been so far away in his eyes. Now, though, she was finally in front of him, like he'd been looking through the wrong end of a spyglass. Levy was trapped in his arms, touching him without an ounce of fear in her heart. She wouldn't vanish, _couldn't_ vanish…not when Gajeel's arms were so tight around her. Gajeel was chained to her, his heart and his body, and he hadn't realized until that moment how that connection went both ways…

Levy held onto the end of the chain that bound Gajeel tightly and Gajeel welcomed it; their connection was exhilarating to both of them, something neither had previously experienced.

Gajeel savored the taste of her. It all seemed so unreal to him, so much so that he began to think it was really a dream. As he carried Levy's small body across the room, he grasped her ass tightly and relished in the little squeak she rewarded him with.

This was definitely a dream. Gajeel, hesitant to let go of her for fear that he was right, held her wrists tightly as he lay her down on her bed. He leaned over her and stared at her, needing to store this image in his mind.

A deep blush had spread across Levy's cheeks and crept all the way down her neck. Her tongue waited between her lips for his. Her eyes were wide, looking up at him with a confident gleam. His moon spirit must have crept into his dreams again to taunt him. A tiny flame of anger flared inside of him; Tsuki-Yomi's trickery was never ending.

Levy saw the anger in his eyes but hid her confusion from him. She didn't want him to stop, to decide she wasn't worth it just as the emperor had. She leaned closer so that her face was near to his and barely touched his collarbone with her lips. "Shortie," he growled.

She could feel the vibration of his deep voice beneath her hands, but the nickname angered her a little. She kissed his neck as he started to turn his head, and bit down on his warm skin. That gesture encompassed both her frustration and her desire.

It was enough to snap Gajeel back to reality. That tiny, adorable pain let Gajeel realize what was happening wasn't a dream. His moon spirit was in his arms waiting for him, unbearably, delightfully mad at him for calling her _Shortie_.

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down, wasting no time in sliding his hand down the length of her while pulling the silvery silk away to reveal her to him. He'd imagined it many times, but the reality was so much better. Her slim, pale body shone against his dark, tanned skin in the warm candlelight.

He lowered his face to her chest and kissed her, again and again, tasting the slight sweetness of her skin. As he nuzzled her, she gently buried her fingers in his hair. She watched him, watched his tongue slide across her breast, his eyes shut and his metal subtly reflecting the candlelight. She lay there, enjoying every moment of the attention Gajeel gave her and occasionally touching him in return.

Gajeel looked up as Levy tucked her fingertips beneath the scratchy fabric of his shirt. She hated the feel of it against her, and she wanted it gone. He looked into her eyes as she eased it off of his shoulders. When it was finally gone, she lay back down, simply staring at him. He understood her command as soon as she looked at him, spreading her legs.

Each shockwave of sensation he gave her she would in turn touch him, reward him with her skin on his. Each time she touched him, he would work harder, push harder with his tongue to please her. And he _wanted_ to please her, make her cry out in pleasure so she wouldn't forget about him, so that when he inevitably had to leave, she would miss him every second. He wanted to leave his mark in that brilliant mind of hers.

And that's just what he did. Levy couldn't help herself now. She couldn't stop gasping, crying out into the darkness as she grasped Gajeel's wrist where it lay on her thigh. She guided Gajeel's other hand back to her chest with the other, wanting to mix all of the newly discovered sensations together.

Gajeel watched intently as her moment finally came. He attuned every one of his senses to her. He listened to her sexy cry, watched her back arch and her eyes squeeze tightly shut, tasted the bead of salty sweat trickling along her skin, felt her muscles tense around him and her hand tighten around his wrist. He grabbed her hand and wove his fingers together with hers. He rose to his knees and looked down at her, sliding his tongue along his lips as he felt satisfaction and pride explode inside of him.

"Gajeel," she gasped, a tiny smile on her shining lips. He smirked at how sensitive she was. He pressed his hands down on the futon on either side of her head. She finally opened her eyes and looked up at him, reaching up to rest her hands on the back of his neck.

He leaned down and kissed her again, slowly and softly this time. "I won't," Gajeel said suddenly.

She opened her eyes, looking up at him. She brushed his hair away from his face. "Hm?" she questioned. Her body was still buzzing, so she couldn't focus on much of anything other than how close his hot skin still was to hers or how sexy that slight sheen of sweat was on his chest.

"One day, Levy," he whispered into her ear, "But not today."

The meaning of his words simultaneously made her heart sink and soar. Was it because he didn't want her? No. The slight pain reflected in his eyes as he said those words told her otherwise. The promise behind his words reassured her. _One day_.

"I won't hurt you," he said sternly. His voice was rough, but his hands were gentle on her face, stroking her cheeks and her lips like they were precious gems. "Until you want me to."

Levy immediately closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. Gajeel's eyes went wide, surprised at her sudden embrace. "What are you-"

"You're mine now, Gajeel," she said into his chest. Those words sounded so good to him. He didn't mind being hers if it meant he could be with her, didn't mind submitting himself to her will if he would be able to touch her and taste her again. Gajeel quietly laughed and put a hand on her tiny head.

"Yeah, ok," he said, blushing a little. She pulled away and looked up at him.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. He'd given her something that he didn't yet realize the significance of, and it made her whole.

Gajeel stared down at her, wondering why she looked like she was about to start crying. His ears twitched as he was ripped from the moment, a chorus of voices sounding from the hallway on the other side of the sliding doors that led to Levy's room. Gajeel scowled and looked back to Levy.

"Go," she said, a tiny bit of fear and urgency in her voice. He nodded and quickly went to pull his shirt on. He turned to look at her as he ran across the room, then doubled back. He leaned down and kissed her again, then pressing his lips against her neck and sucked hard.

"Ow," Levy whimpered. He ran for the door and looked back at her, where she sat with her hand over her neck.

"That way you won't forget me," he said, blushing again and not completely meeting her eyes.

Levy shook her head, "I couldn't even if I wanted to. "

Gajeel just laughed in return and turned, expertly vaulting over the railing and into the darkness.

Levy launched up and pulled her clothes back on, waiting intently as the voices got closer. A silhouette appeared on the other side of the paper.

"Yes?" she asked, standing up and holding herself.

"His Majesty the Emperor summons the Lady Levy McGarden to his quarters," the voice said. Levy clutched the table beside her for support. Her ears rang and her vision blurred for a moment, the words echoing around her. She cleared her throat; she had to respond.

"Y-Yes," she choked out. The shadow was motionless for a moment and then vanished. Levy fell to her knees, clutching her chest as fear stole the breath from her lungs and the light from her eyes.

The Emperor had summoned her late at night. That only meant one thing. It was funny how much she'd wanted this, to leave her disgrace in the past this way…but…the tears welled up. One night had changed her in such an unimaginable way. She thought she'd only taken him for herself, but she'd actually given a part of herself away in return.

Tears fell as the candle on her table let out a pathetic hiss and she was left alone in the dark, the dark that wasn't the same without him.

"Gajeel," Levy whimpered.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading, you guys. As I've said, their story will continue in later chapters. I've planned for the next one to be Jerza, so if you want to see that (or if you just want to read more Nalu or Gajevy) please leave me a review so that I know!**

 **It seriously helps me to know that you guys actually want more and that it's worth writing more chapters. Anyway, leave me those reviews and Jerza will come your way. I love you all.**


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